


We Should Probably Travel the World Together Or Something

by ronans



Series: Prompts [15]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Drunkenness, M/M, One Shot, Party, Smoking, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 10:25:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3286865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronans/pseuds/ronans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Prompt:</strong> They meet at a party and make drunken promises to each other - <a href="http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com/post/110031038759/gallavich-prompt-they-meet-at-a-party-and-make">Anon</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	We Should Probably Travel the World Together Or Something

Here’s the thing, Mickey doesn’t actually know who the fuck owns the house he’s currently standing outside of, but he doesn’t really care. He’s got enough alcohol in his system to not care about much, really. He’d probably scold himself the next day for spending such an extended amount of time staring at how the full moon is reflecting off the frosted over windows of the neighbouring houses.

He takes a long gulp of the fuck knows what he’s got in his cup and then immediately sucks desperately on his cigarette, always keeping his eyes on the moon, vaguely listening to the distant beat of a pop song blasting inside.

‘You better put that out, it’s bad for you,’ Mickey hears someone slur from behind him. He swivels around and takes in the image of an absolutely plastered red-haired guy, UV paint covering his face, who looks about a year or two younger than him leaning against the front entrance of the house. Mickey quirks an eyebrow and lets his lit cigarette dangle between his lips.

‘So?’

‘Fine!’ Random Ginger Guy lifts his hands up and then staggers forward towards Mickey, raising a finger to point at Mickey’s chest. ‘You enjoy your blackened, toxic lungs and _I’ll_ enjoy my nice, pink healthy ones.’

Mickey rolls his eyes and digs his half empty packet out of his jeans pocket, offering it to the teenager. ‘You want one?’

He pauses for a moment, swaying minutely on the spot before a slow grin practically takes over his face. ‘Tshhhh, yeah.’

Mickey laughs quietly at the guy’s response and shakes the packet so a cigarette can fall into the redhead’s hand, his cheap plastic lighter soon following suit.

‘Your hair’s fuckin’ wild, man,’ Mickey blurts out, watching as the flame from his lighter plays in the strands of the other boy’s hair. He’s kinda always had a thing for redheads, and the filter he normally has firmly in place to stop him from saying shit like that out loud seems to have just dissolved with the alcohol.

‘M’Ian,’ he murmurs, his slow voice muffled by the cigarette in his mouth.

‘Mickey,’ he replies, nodding his head a little and smiling dopily.

‘ _Mick_ -ey,’ Ian draws out, and he kind of loves the way his name curls out of the guy’s mouth along with the smoke.

‘Wow, got it in one, congratu-fucking-lations.’

Ian looks so proud of himself at that. He wipes a hand lazily over his face, effectively smearing the UV paint over even more of his skin. Afterwards, he pulls his hand away and stares down at his paint coated palm. ‘What the _fuck_? Is this _unicorn blood_ on my face?!’

Mickey snickers at the pure horror of Ian’s expression. ‘You okay there?’

‘I am the _best_ , honestly.’ He almost face plants on the floor as he tries to step closer to Mickey, but manages to steady himself by putting both of his hands out in front of him, dropping his cigarette in the process. ‘ _Whoops_.’

‘Fucking whoo- yeah, okay,’ Mickey sighs, bending down to help Ian up and nearly falling over himself. He must have had more alcohol than he thought because he’s not exactly a lightweight, has actually built up some sort of mild alcohol tolerance over the years, in fact.

‘You got… like, blue eyes, right?’ Ian asks once he’s upright.

Mickey narrows said eyes and places Ian’s now slightly damp cigarette back in his mouth for him. Ian relights it without even commenting on the familiarity of Mickey’s gesture despite them meeting mere minutes ago.

‘Uh, yeah. Why?’

Ian shrugs and turns away, twisting his body around to look down the street. Mickey’s so fucking confused. ‘There’s a Porsche over there.’

Mickey lets out what _could_ have been construed as a giggle, but it fucking wasn’t. ‘Fuckin’ Sherlock of Chicago.’

Ian shrugs again, facing Mickey now. ‘I find Watson hotter.’

‘Oh fuck, no way, with the moustache ‘n shit?’ Mickey inhales some more of his cigarette and hums around it in disagreement.

‘Each to their own,’ Ian replies, waggling his eyebrows in the most spasmodic way.

‘You’re too drunk to flirt,’ Mickey says bluntly but then grins. It appears to be infectious because then Ian starts beaming.

‘You’re a pretty chill dude, I think we should probably travel the world together or something.’

‘ _Pretty chill dude_? Jesus, are you drunk or high right now?’ Mickey laughs, shaking his head.

Ian grins and his eyes looks so fucking huge and warm and kind and _fuck_. ‘Little bit of both.’

‘Hope you’re looking forward to the part where you throw up your fuckin’ insides all over the lawn.’

‘Listen, seriously,’ Ian says, ignoring Mickey and placing a hand on his shoulder. ‘I’m _serious_ right now, okay, seriously we should… open up a fucking _bookshop_ in Alaska, maybe.’

Mickey wants to start rolling around on the frosted over grass laughing but Ian looks so damn “ _serious_ ” and excited that he manages to just keep the reaction down to another grin. ‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah! Or we could road trip around the world!’

‘Road trip across the fuckin’ sea!’ Mickey says back just as excitedly because he’s loving how receptive Ian is and his enthusiasm is most definitely contagious.

‘Get one of those cars that can go on water,’ Ian mumbles like he’s really trying to think this through. He inhales deeply on his cigarette and Mickey’s hazey gaze is completely trained on how Ian’s lips pout as they surround the filter.

‘We should… pout- fuck, no, that is _not_ what I meant to say.’ And what was he actually going to say, again? Fuck knows. Ian’s mouth is pretty as hell and that’s all that matters, it trumps coherent conversation by a mile.

‘You’re promising me we’re gonna do this together, though, right? Like, _proper, proper promise_ ,’ Ian says, ignoring Mickey’s slip up.

Mickey bobs his head and crushes his cigarette under his boot, listening to the crackle of the rigid grass under his feet. ‘Sure, why the fuck not. Got nothin’ better to do.’

Ian lifts his arms in the air and lets out a fucking enormous cheer before pulling Mickey into the most bone crushing hug he’s ever experienced.

‘This is gonna be so fucking great, Ickey- _Mickey_ , holy fuck, I am so fucked.’ Ian starts laughing directly into Mickey’s ear and all he can do is slowly pat Ian’s back and try to focus on the melody of the laugh rather than the ringing it’s causing.

‘Alright, alright, get the fuck off me before I fuckin’ suffocate.’

Ian does let go, but the ridiculous grin stays firmly in place. He throws a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the house, or as close to the house as someone with their coordination down can get. ‘You wanna go back in? I heard someone yell body shots and I’m betting you’d look _amazing_ covered in shot glasses.’

Mickey raises an eyebrow and stares at Ian through his alcohol heavy lids. ‘That’s… the weirdest compliment I’ve ever fuckin’ heard… But okay.’

‘Yes, Mickey!’

Mickey must be _absolutely totally fucked_ if he’s just agreed to go back inside a College party to do body shots with a dude who looks like he does modelling in his spare time. It’s a great start to the rest of his life.

*

When Mickey wakes up the next day with the hangover from hell and his mouth tasting like an overused ashtray, he’s shocked as fuck to see some guy called ‘Ian’s name and number scrawled across his forehead in slightly smudged permanent marker.

**Author's Note:**

> [Prompts here :)](http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com)


End file.
